


Roses

by dancing_dazai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_dazai/pseuds/dancing_dazai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a florist's shop where several murders have occurred, Dean explains to Cas why humans buy each other "seemingly meaningless plants".<br/>What Cas does that night surprises him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses

"Cas, buddy, would you hurry up?"  
  
Cas stepped away from the arrangements of flowers he'd been inspecting, pacing to catch up to Dean and his brother as they stepped into the florist's.  
  
"What are we doing here again?" Dean asked as they walked through the door, a small silver bell tinkling above their heads as they did so.  
  
"Well," Sam began, "this is where all three victims visited less than an hour before they died, _and_ there were rose petals left nearby the corpses. C'mon, man—you can't tell me that's a coincidence."  
  
He saw the grumpy expression on Dean's face and sighed. "Look, we're just gonna have a look around, okay? We won't be long." He smirked. "I know how you hate places like this."  
  
"Yeah, you don't say." Dean wrinkled his nose at a bouquet of bright pink lilies on a nearby shelf and shuddered, mumbling, "I can't stand places like this."  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm just gonna ask around and see what info I can get. You two check the place for hex-bags, etcetera."  
  
Dean nodded reluctantly and Sam waltzed off to the counter to interview the owner. Cas turned to his friend, his eyes narrowed.  
  
"What are we looking for, Dean?"  
  
"I have absolutely no idea. Just keep your eyes peeled."  
  
After checking around the entrance and a nearby storage room, Dean began wandering through the aisles absent-mindedly whilst Cas checked through the many bouquets of flowers. To a stranger, it would have looked like he was simply browsing. But Sam and Dean knew otherwise. They had to find out what was killing those people.  
  
Neither of them had realised they'd been travelling in opposite directions around the shop, and soon enough they walked into each other at the other end of the aisle. Dean stepped back immediately, trying to reclaim his personal space, as Cas watched him closely.  
  
Just at that moment, Sam returned.  
  
"The owner knows jack-squat," he said with a tired sigh. "Did either of you find anything?"  
  
"Nope, the place is clean." Dean scratched the back of his head. "What now?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "Back to the motel, I guess—we'll have to do some research. Maybe Bobby can help."  
  
"Sounds good to me. Man, I hate this place," Dean admitted, letting Sam lead the way to the door. Before leaving he turned back to make sure Cas was with him, but he was surprised to see that the angel hadn't moved. He was still staring at a bouquet of roses on the top shelf, squinting at it suspiciously. Dean frowned.  
  
"Cas, you good?"  
  
His friend didn't look away from the shelf as he spoke. "You know, I've always found it strange how humans give each other such seemingly meaningless gifts. I mean, it's just a handful of plants wrapped up in pretty paper—why is it seen as so sentimental?" 

Dean shook his head with a fond smile. 

"It's just a human thing, Cas. Flowers... they're not just flowers. They mean something, y'know?"  
  
Cas looked away from the bouquet and narrowed his eyes at Dean in confusion. Dean didn't think he would understand, and he sighed. "Look, Cas, if you get someone some flowers, it means you care about them enough to get 'em something you think is pretty. Now come on, we've got work to do." 

Cas momentarily glanced back at the shelf before following his friend outside to the Impala.  
  
  
Later, back at the Bunker, Dean stumbled into his room and kicked off his shoes, feeling absolutely exhausted. (It wasn't his fault; research was boring as hell, and always took it out of him. Now he just wanted to sleep.)  
  
He yawned loudly, and was just about to flop down onto his bed when he realised something was already sat on his pillow waiting for him. Dean frowned in confusion and lifted up the bouquet of roses, even more surprised to see a small white card fall out from between the velvety, crimson petals.  
  
He leaned down to pick the card up from off the floor, blushing as he read the careful, dainty writing.  
  
_I thought you might like something pretty. –C_

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a post by paradisedean.tumblr.com ~~(I hope they don't mind if I use it as a prompt, whoops).~~  
>  But still, I hope you enjoyed—please don't forget to leave a kudos if you did ^–^ 
> 
> Also, comments are always read so please don't be afraid to leave one, because they always brighten up my day.


End file.
